


We are the same, you and I.

by WellFuckYouSir



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 20:48:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WellFuckYouSir/pseuds/WellFuckYouSir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A meeting between two war men</p>
            </blockquote>





	We are the same, you and I.

**Author's Note:**

> I literally forgot I had written this until I read it. Enjoy!

When John stepped into the shooting range, the sun was just rising. That day, as most days, he had gotten up early. It wasn't something he had chosen, it was because of the nightmares. The nightmares that haunted him since the fall.

Before he had met Sherlock Holmes, his dreams had been about the war, the battle, and those casualties that had once been more than that. Then again, that had been before Sherlock came into his life. Since that horrible day, the pale face of his friend, covered in blood had appeared every night, and never left him alone. That night had been different though, he had dreamed with the fall, but that time it had been him the one falling, John had woken up feverish and sweaty and had decided to burn some adrenaline on the shooting range.

He had been there so early it surprised him to find another man there, already loading his riffle, with a bull’s eye prepared to be shot at. The man was tall, with light blond hair and was wearing a black t-shirt and jeans that looked a little worn out. _Military, by the way he holds himself_ was the first thing that John thought, but he didn’t want to think more about that man (or anyone) so he loaded his gun and aimed at his own bull’s eye.

The sun was already quite high when John decided he had had enough for that day and he headed back for the entrance. It seemed that the other guy had also gotten tired of hitting every time the centre of the bull’s eye (not that John had noticed anyway) because he picked up his riffle and headed back as well.

John thought that he might be following him but he dismissed the idea, because he didn’t do that anymore, those things didn’t had happen since the death of his best friend. He was just being paranoid.

He looked at the man next to him in the checking counter and by the time they had both checked out was when John saw it, the tight smile that the man was showing, the same smile that he forced himself into everyday to keep going, the wrinkles that he looked at every time he looked at the mirror.

Out of nowhere he found himself saying _I’m sorry,_ then, he went out and headed home.

Sebastian froze in that moment, John didn't know him so it was impossible that he had recognized him but the look in his eyes said otherwise, he looked like knew, but again, if he knew, his words would had been different, _I'm sorry_ he had said, and that's when Sebastian understood. John had seen his sadness, his mourning for the lost of his boss. And even if John didn't know him, Sebastian knew he understood, because he had also lost someone he loved.

They met sometimes after that, there in the shooting range, but never again exchanged a word, only knowing glances.


End file.
